Finding Kitty, Chapter 4 "Lair"

Matt saw Chester off, grabbing the canteen and bedroll from his saddle to take inside.  He noted the

dilapidated state of the property with many belongings still lying around, as if the owner had perhaps died and left them behind.  There was a pile of freshly chopped wood with a rusty axe out front, but he knew the Gunthers hadn’t chopped it.  He’d watched them like a hawk all night long.  Apparently quite a few travelers still used this place to stay for the night.  Maybe the unfortunate man who’d encountered Kitty and her captors on the trail had been the one who’d chopped the wood.

Matt skirted the Gunthers’ bodies as he hurried back inside.  He’d come back out and bury them as soon as he got a little food and water into Kitty, but only if she was resting quietly.  They could wait, as far as he was concerned.

Passing the fireplace, he saw the remainder of the outlaws’ breakfast, still in the pot, along with some coffee.  There were more dishes in a sideboard whose doors swung open.  Matt wondered what else he would be able to find of use around here.  Matt hastily scooped some of the porridge into a clean bowl he found, grabbed a spoon and headed into Kitty’s room.   Setting the food and canteen on a rickety bedside table, he spread his blanket over her quiet form.  Then he gingerly sat on the edge. 

She looked so small and pale and helpless.  His chest squeezed as he looked at her.  Why?  Why had they taken her?  She hadn’t done anything to deserve this.  She’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  With him.  Attending to official business.  His job was dangerous, even for the innocent bystanders in his life.   Matt swore to himself then and there that he would never let Kitty Russell get hurt again because of him and his job.  He swore to keep her safe.

Matt splashed a bit of water from the canteen onto a clean handkerchief and placed it on her bloodless forehead.  He’d noticed a well in the yard and there was a rope and bucket, too, looking as if they’d been used recently.  He’d try and get them some fresh water later.

She made a soft noise and stirred again, eyelids barely fluttering open. 

Matt looked at her anxiously, his heart in his throat, as he nervously rearranged the damp cloth above her eyes.  “Kitty, honey, can you hear me?”

The words came out small and faint, only an echo of her usual voice.  “Yes...”  She frowned at a sudden memory.  “Matt, the Gunthers...  They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Kitty.  I shot them.  I couldn’t take any chances that they’d try and hurt you.”

“Jed tried to shoot me, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.  But I didn’t let him.”

“Thank you for saving me, Matt.”

Matt felt his cheeks flush a little.  “I did what I had to do, Kitty.  I almost feel like it’s all my fault to begin with...”

“No, don’t say that.”  She closed her eyes tiredly for a moment.  After a heartbeat, she continued, “How could it be your fault?”

Matt quickly changed the subject.  “Here, take a drink of this.”  He cradled the back of her head in his large hand and tipped the open canteen to her lips while she sipped easily at first. 

Then she took a breath, resting her head against his hand on the pillow and looked piercingly at him again.  “More, please...” 

He supported her head a little higher this time, and she drank deeply, greedily, and Matt fumed, wondering if they’d withheld water from her.   She dropped her head back at last, breathing heavily.  He wiped away some water that’d trickled from the corner of her mouth with his fingers. 

He said quietly, “I have some breakfast for you.  It may not be the best, but I suspect you haven’t eaten since day before yesterday.  Is that true?”

Her answer was a raspy whisper, confirming his fears.  “Yes.”

He tried not to let her see his anger, but it was glinting in his eyes as she gazed at him.  He coaxed, “Take a bite of this.”

She opened her mouth, and he dutifully spoon-fed her the entire bowl.   “Do you want some more?”

“No...”  She closed her eyes again.  “I’m so tired, Matt.  I didn’t sleep last night.  So tired...”

“Then you need to rest now.”  He laid the bowl down and tucked the covers around her snugly, turning the wet cloth on her forehead.  “Just sleep...”

He picked up the dish and canteen and headed for the door, stopping when he heard a faint voice from the bed.  “Matt?”

He turned.  “Yes?”

“Thank you.” 

He felt the tips of his ears warming as he answered, “You’re welcome, Kitty.”

Matt laid the dish on the sideboard, taking the canteen outside to the well.  The pulley was squeaky, but it worked, and soon he had a bucket of clean, fresh water.  He refilled the canteen by dunking it inside, then drank thirstily from it until it was nearly empty.

Then he refilled it again and drew another bucket to carry in the house.  He had to duck beneath a beam fallen from the tattered roof where daylight shone through in order to peek inside the bedroom and check on Kitty.  She lay sleeping peacefully, the rise and fall of her even breaths reassuring to Matt.  He felt he could leave her for long enough to bury the bodies. 

Matt knew he needed to get them away from the house before they attracted predators.  Unable to locate a shovel, he simply dragged the bodies feet first to a spot some yards away, so that he would still be able to keep an eye on the house, and began covering them in rocks he gathered from the immediate area. 

He felt no sorrow at their passing, or even remorse at his role in their deaths as he contemplated Kitty’s hunger and thirst, the dried blood on her scalp and in her hair and her obviously weakened condition.   He despised them for what they’d put her through.  The men he was burying were heartless and evil, and Kitty hadn’t deserved anything they’d done to her.

Dropping the last heavy rock on top of the graves, he dusted his hands on his pants, wiped the sweat from his face with his shirtsleeve and loped back toward the house.  Walking noiselessly inside, so as not to waken her, he crept to the bedroom door to peer within.  

At first glance, everything looked peaceful and normal.  But then, his eyes fell on a scaly, long reptilian shape on the bed.  It was slithering slowly atop Kitty’s body, seeking warmth.  Matt’s eyes were drawn to a small hole in the wooden floor in the far corner of the room where another rattler was just slipping through, heading in the direction of Kitty’s bed as well.

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